let us play a game
by wild wolf free17
Summary: It was gentle, the demon in Sam’s skin. -Born Under a Bad Sign AU-
1. the holy lost

**Title**: the holy lost

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Lucille Clifton.

**Warnings**: two counts of non-con incest; AU for "Born Under A Bad Sign"

**Pairings**: NotMegSam/Dean

**Rating**: R

**Wordcount**: 290

**Point of view**: third

* * *

It was gentle, the demon in Sam's skin. It made sure it didn't move too quick, made sure he was prepped enough.

It made sure Dean's body enjoyed the act, while Dean's mind screamed for it to stop.

o0o

_Sam won't remember, Dean_, it laughed with Sam's voice. _He's locked so far down, he'll never have an inkling._ It used Sam's tongue and mouth to kiss Dean's neck. _Unless, of course_, it continued, _you tell him_.

But it knew him, because Sam knew him. _You won't do that, will you, Dean? Burden baby brother like that?_

Dean kept quiet, trying to will himself away. And the demon kept up its soft, slow fucking.

o0o

It bathed him, after, gentle hands on his sore skin and muscles.

He would have preferred violence. He would have preferred pain and blood to the almost-kindness, to the care it took of his bruised flesh.

o0o

_You'll never forget what Sammy's body has done to you_, it chortled, forcing sedatives down his throat. _What he feels like inside you. What he sounds like as he comes deep in your ass. And Sammy—he'll never remember. _

It held him with Sam's arms, cradled him to Sam's chest, until he fell asleep.

He woke alone and didn't find Sam until it almost killed Jo.

o0o

He was glad Sam didn't remember. And he would never, ever share what happened.

It didn't matter, anyway. Wasn't like the demon really hurt him. Well, it shot him and beat the shit out of him, but what happened in bed—not important. At all.

So, it wasn't like Sam _needed_ to know.

In his nightmares, though, he still heard it laugh with Sammy's voice, and tell him how fucking _tight_ he was.


	2. blame has a name that will not be spoken

**Title**: blame has a name that will not be spoken

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; title from Adrienne Rich

**Warnings**: AU for "Born Under a Bad Sign"; everything else follows the same

**Pairings**: um… none stated?

**Rating**: PG

**Wordcount**: 385

**Point of view**: third

* * *

In his nightmares, it wears him like a cheap suit and he's shouting at Dean to know _it's_ _not me, Dean, oh god, can't you hear me? Dean, Dean, Dean_—and it laughs, it laughs so loud, and there's something he's missing, some vital piece of the puzzle, some major clue that will—will—

He doesn't know what. But he knows that Dean knows.

o0o

Dean is quieter than he's been since his confession to Sam about Dad's final words. The flinches are subtle but there, and each one screams at Sam that something is so very wrong. Sam's body beat the crap out of him, so it's to be expected, but there's something else, too.

He tries to talk to Dean about it; they have to lay it out in the open so it doesn't fester, so that the shame and the regret will bleed and run and heal. Sam's sorry, so very sorry, and he needs Dean's forgiveness for whatever he did in that gaping blank in his memory.

He remembers Steve Wandell. He remembers Jo. He remembers that motel room, when he sucker-punched Dean, first with a request to kill him and then with a gun to the head. But there must be something else, something terrible and horrible, because demons do shit like that, and Dean is not talking.

In his nightmares, it whispers, _Go to sleep, Sammy-boy. Time for the big kids to play_, and he wakes up in Dean's impala, to it saying, _Man, your brother's a good guy, ain't he? What will it take for him to fuckin' kill you?_

o0o

Dean tries to act normal, jokes and rambles and complains. But Sam's known him for twenty-three years, and he knows Dean's act as an act. A good one, yeah, but still just pretend.

What happened during that blank? He needs to know, but he doesn't want to know—and yet, he has to know.

And finally, finally, as he's dying in Dean's arms, stabbed in the back by his own act of mercy, the blank is filled as memories go flashing through his mind, and he hears that fucking demon laughing, and then Dean, _oh, damn it, shit, Dean_—and Sam wants to say he's sorry, so very sorry, for what the demon did, and Yellow-Eyes, and dying…


End file.
